


And Then Remove - Usually With Your Mouth

by zarabithia



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: A/U, Edible Body Paint, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 19:10:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20512043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zarabithia/pseuds/zarabithia
Summary: Before taking Van Gogh back to his time period, Amy and the Doctor introduce him to edible body paint.





	And Then Remove - Usually With Your Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> Written a million years before we found out that Amy was River's mother.

The emotional response from Van Gogh was, of course, entirely expected. The only concern the Doctor had was what _type_ of emotional response Van Gogh would have, because with a mind that fraught with despair, the reaction could have well have been a more ... negative one. Or, at the very least, a more overwhelmed one.

To say the very least, the Doctor's concern turned out to be completely unwarranted. Because the minute Amy, Van Gogh and the Doctor stepped foot onto the TARDIS following their journey to the future, Van Gogh's reaction was that he wanted to paint _immediately_.

The TARDIS, charming and compatible girl that she was, immediately responded with a supply of paint to do the job.

"Hmm. Edible body paint. Somehow, old girl, I don't think that's what Mister Van Gogh had in mind," the Doctor murmured, mostly to himself. Though, of course, his companions heard him.

"_Edible_ body paint?" Van Gogh's expression shifted, distracted slightly from the rapt pleasure brought on by the exhibit of his works. "Tell me that is a future thing that is not what it sounds like."

"Paint you cover your body with," Amy supplied, before the Doctor could. "And then remove. Usually with your mouth."

"Usually with another person's mouth," the Doctor corrected. "Or so I've been told. Although you may be correct, Mister Van Gogh, in that this may be very much a future thing indeed. Jack Harkness was always very fond, and the TARDIS does like to keep his room in tact, no matter how long he's been gone."

"Who is Jack Harkness?" Amy asked. "You know, that's not the first time you've mentioned him."

"Oh, Amy Pond. Someday I will tell you, but trust me, Jack Harkness is not the type of story you tell in between negotiations on whether or not to use edible body paint with Vincent Van Gogh. It is much too large for that."

"_Negotiations_." Van Gogh looked at him skeptically. "Seems kind of like a waste of paint to me."

The Doctor dipped his fingers thoughtfully into the paint, then tasted it experimentally. "Hmm, yes, that certainly belonged to Jack, at some point. And actually, I believe that depends entirely on how you use the mouth portion of the exercise."

Amy reached over and squeezed Van Gogh's hand with both of her own. "Oh, come on! How many more chances are you going to get to play with future paint?"

"_Edible_ future paint," the Doctor reminded.

"Well, it's not as though we have any other canvases around," Van Gogh replied - quite reasonably, in the Doctor's estimation.

That reasonableness led to a very nude Amy Pond, lying on her back in the room reserved for her in the TARDIS. The Doctor tried to have a passing moment of guilt, because he'd been quite certain that her room should have been a shared room with _Rory_...

It should be a guilt quite easily summoned, because he did miss Rory a good deal. He'd been a good, decent fellow, and the kind of life partner that Amy had wanted. Or at least, the kind she'd deserved.

But with Amy lying there on the bed beside him, fantastic red hair splayed backwards over her pillows and uncharacteristically quiet save the few, excited breaths, the Doctor found it very difficult to feel guilt.

"Sunflowers, on the navel. Very interesting," the Doctor murmured, leaning over to inspect Van Gogh's work.

"My best work," Van Gogh informed him. "So pretty, even the worst of my critics would likely want to buy this."

Amy laughed then, a quick, jerky, all over body laugh that made Van Gogh's fingers slip, causing a long streak of green to slip up through the flower's petals. "I almost think I should be offended by that comment."

"Oh, my dear Amy Pond, I certainly meant no offense." Van Gogh smiled charmingly at her, then promptly became distracted by the flaw in his artwork. His fingers moved over Amy's stomach, attempting to smooth out the edges.

A softer, low rumble of a laughter erupted out of Amy at the movements, and the Doctor was faced with the delightful possibility that Amy Pond was ticklish.

So many, many possibilities that offered.

"I'm sure you didn't," Amy said, between her giggles. "And anyway, maybe I should be more offended that _someone_ isn't joining in at all."

"I'm not much of an artist," the Doctor denied, because it was a simpler explanation than _I am trying very hard to summon guilt that I should have about a boyfriend you don't remember._

"But you have hands," Van Gogh argued. "With all you have seen, you cannot make your hands make _art_ on this beautiful woman's body?"

Amy's hands moved again, reaching for his. "You can," she whispered, and then, "Please?"

He could hardly be expected to argue with that.

He dipped two fingers into the red, two shades darker than her hair and held them to her lips first. She accepted the offer with much more restraint than he was used to seeing from Amy Pond, licking only the tip of his index finger.

He dragged his fingers down her bottom lip and across her chin, letting his movements be as light as possible to take advantage of the ticklish nature she had demonstrated earlier. He was rewarded with the slightest of shivers, but he did not take his eyes off of her face long enough to see if Van Gogh's hand slipped again.

He supposed, by the light cursing at his side, that it probably had.

"You're supposed to be painting, you know," Amy chided lightly. Her fingers reached up impatiently, and tapped his hands where they had stilled, just above her breasts.

"Sometimes a painter has to take in the full sight of the beauty he is trying to create, Amy Pond," Van Gogh said, quite helpfully in the Doctor's estimation.

Amy just gave an indignant snort. Apparently she did not find the advice nearly as helpful as he did.

Van Gogh responded to the Doctor's snorts by dipping his head to her hip. The painter's hands stilled momentarily, their movements replaced by his tongue licking along Amy's hipbone. The Doctor was quite glad Jack had such impeccable taste in body paints - it really was much more edible than most other varieties that had been in the TARDIS over the years.

Though the Doctor did suspect that was not the reason for Van Gogh's enthusiasm. It certainly wasn't the reason Amy's hips lifted up to meet Van Gogh's mouth.

But that movement, and the accompanying little groan, was all the Doctor needed to be stirred back into movement. His fingers dipped along Amy's curves, opting for words instead of pictures. He traced symbols and words that Amy wouldn't know the precise meaning of, but he was sure she was smart enough to figure out the general sentiment.

Occasionally, his tongue joined in the effort - some languages were very tricky, after all. Between the efforts of his mouth and Van Gogh's, Amy's sunflowers were quite drastically destroyed.

Amy didn't seem to mind too terribly much, however.


End file.
